128 GUN, ROD, AND SADDLE. 



along southward from the village to visit your guards, 

 there is a cave. Passing through it you find a port- 

 hole, looking perpendicularly down on the Mediterra- 

 nean. When there is an easterly wind blowing, the 

 surf breaks beneath in grandest splendor. From this 

 port-hole, with strong tackle and plenty of fresh sar- 

 dines for bait, you can take more fish in the course of 

 the day than will suffice for your whole detachment. 

 Off Catalin Bay there is a bank, four good miles 

 from land. Get the village fishermen to take you 

 to it, and if fortune smiles upon you with the favor 

 it did on me, you will cry before the night is over, 

 " Hold, enough." The fish principally taken were a 

 copper-colored bream,* about two or three pounds in 

 weight, and so numerous were they, that we never 

 thought of drawing up our lines till we had two or 

 more victims hooked; and how do you think we 

 knew this? Simply in this way, one fish on, you 

 only felt a direct tug, two or more a constant vibra- 

 tion, as if a party were squabbling over the line, and 

 each endeavoring to take possession of it. 



* Called by the Spaniards "Bissengo." 



